


Cracks

by vesper_house



Series: Morning Comes [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: A tiny bit of fluff, Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, dangerous abandonment of prescription drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 09:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12745680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesper_house/pseuds/vesper_house
Summary: Some new facts make Clark wonder if he can trust Bruce.





	Cracks

**Author's Note:**

> I'm incredibly grateful to every reader who didn't drop this story. I apologize for the wait. Just a heads up: it will probably help to re-read previous chapters.

It is always like that: Clark wakes up early in the morning with the first sunbeams; Bruce is deeply asleep, oblivious to what is happening around him. This morning in the hotel room is not any different. Bruce’s light snoring is a good sign – maybe his insomnia will cease to exist one day. For now there is something to be said about nightingales and owls (or bats in this case).  

Clark knows he has to go back to his place and change before heading to work but it is so hard. He would rather stay and just look at Bruce’s stupid handsome face until noon. Have breakfast with him. Read the paper while Bruce checks his emails. Shower together. Get dressed up. Say their goodbyes at the door knowing they will see each other in the evening. Discuss what groceries they need to buy. Go to the movies. Play board games on Sundays. Be normal for a bit. Clark would give everything to make Bruce’s life easier, to make things simpler for him. To make him happy. His heart is pounding loudly. _I want to make your days better,_ he thinks, _I wonder if you’ll ever let me._

The clock is unrelenting – it is about time to get ready. Clark sighs and slowly floats out of the bed, hoping it will not disturb Bruce’s peace. His morning routine is clouded by only one thought: _I don’t wanna leave._ There are ways to avoid sitting in the office. Research, field work, gathering data, talking to people - Clark could come up with some good excuses. To have the whole day just for themselves... What a delightful prospect. Just the two of them, naked, carefree, treating the short getaway like an impromptu honeymoon. They would leave the bed only to fetch meals when they arrive behind the closed door, forgetting about everything outside these four walls. Do some more of the stuff Bruce introduced him to last night. Clark smirks at the memory. Knowing what else Bruce has in store thrills him beyond words. Exploring their kinkiness instead of going to work sounds like a dream. Thing is, he is not sure if Bruce would be into it. Always hot and cold with him. Clark tries to understand and respect his boundaries but sometimes anxiety finds its way to hiss poison into his ear: _he’s playing you._

Bruce wakes up just when Clark is about to put his clothes back on. “Good morning, beautiful,” he says cheerfully. “Morning,” Bruce mumbles, twisting his pillow to the colder side. The simple observation makes Clark smile like a goof. “Would you like me to order some breakfast?” He asks. “No, thanks.” Looks like the billionaire is ready to sleep a little longer. Clark crawls on the bed next to him. The five o’clock shadow begs for a caress, so he gives in. “Damn it, I need to shave”, Bruce says, his voice still drowsy. “No, you don’t. You look good.”

“Public eye doesn’t think that away,” he releases a mighty yawn. “Whenever I’m not clean-shaven I get crap for being a slob.”

“You’re not a slob,” Clark traces the line of Bruce’s chin with his finger. Facial hair is pleasantly scratchy to the touch. _God,_ he really does not want to leave and face the real world. It is so safe in here. Bruce’s chest moves up and down to the rhythm of his breathing. The scar does not look that frightening in the light of day. It is actually quite sexy. Maybe Clark is just feeling a little bit frisky this morning. He checks the time: ten minutes or so will not make a difference now. He closes the short distance between him and Bruce’s pecs. Kisses are gentle, almost cautious. But Bruce does not stop him and if the slight change in his heart rate is any indication, he likes it. Wet licks lead Clark to the belly button, so he twirls around with just the tip of his tongue. Bruce groans quietly - music to Clark’s ears. His lips find their way to the slightly erect cock; he loves the feeling of it growing in his mouth. Sucking puts him at ease so he does not rush it, trying to find the slowest, the most satisfying tempo. Taste is strong and musky. Nothing else matters at the moment. He purses his lips tighter, mindful to cover his teeth. Bruce is writhing but fights it, tries to keep himself steady. Giving up power does not come easily to him. Clark is happy to meet the challenge and bring this incredible, stubborn man to his knees. He wants to try something new, something he has been thinking about it for a while. After watching some porn for educational purposes he kind of thought it would be a great Valentine’s Day gift. He chickened out last night. Better late than never though. “Coming,” Bruce gives him a warning. Clark’s cheeks turn red but he goes on. Anticipation makes his blood run faster. “I’m gonna come…” Another warning, this time choked out. Clark closes his eyes, sucks even harder and waits for it, feeling ashamed and excited and curious. Bruce’s cock twitches against his tongue. It is rock hard now, barely feels like flesh anymore. Delicious. Clark moans with his mouth full. It will not take long from here. He can almost feel the pressure point forming in Bruce’s abdomen. Precum mixes with Clark’s spit. For a moment he gets scared that maybe he has been too rough but suddenly the cock in his mouth twitches so violently it nearly bends in half. It takes Clark by surprise but he keeps his lips pursed around the shaft and the next thing he knows, he is getting fed with a generous amount of hot, sticky cum. It hits against his palate and stays on the tongue. It is such a weird sensation that Clark does not register the taste. Spent cock slips out of his mouth and he is left with… He must have made a very weird face because Bruce says calmly: “Swallowing isn’t obligatory, Clark.” Super speed is a real blessing but unfortunately it cannot make the crimson blush disappear from Clark’s face. He spits into the sink and then drinks water from the tap, burning from humiliation. That was _awful._ What the hell will Bruce think of him now? What he has done was… it was just rude. No one should show disgust they way he just did. Granted he was not prepared for what he got but he did initiate this and now Bruce will probably get rid of him. Clark goes back to the bedroom. Even his ears are red. “I’m so sorry,” he says, “I… I thought…” To his surprise, Bruce just chuckles quietly. “Come here.” He says and pats the empty space beside him. His muscled arm wraps around Clark’s middle. “So,” Bruce says bluntly, “you never let anyone come in your mouth before.” The thought of flying straight into the Sun has never been more appealing to Clark than it is now. “And you look really cute when you’re blushing.”

“Can we pretend this never happened?” Clark whines and hides his face in the duvet. “I’m afraid it’s gonna be too hard for me. Cheer up, kid,” Bruce ruffles his hair, “it was good.”

“Yeah well, happy Valentine’s Day I guess.” Clark looks up to meet Bruce’s amused stare. It is weird how a person you begin to love goes through a transformation of some sort, becomes someone new, someone significant right in front of your eyes. They turn into a symbol of life when not so long ago they were just part of the ordinary. One moment and you realize they are a different story, larger than anything life has given you so far. Clark sees Bruce the way he is. It is a kind of magic. “Aren’t you gonna be late for work?”

“Yeah. I think I already am.”

“Better go now. I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

“All right.”

“There’s gum in my coat pocket.” Bruce smirks when Clark whines again. He quickly gets ready and steals just one more kiss before leaving. “See you tomorrow then?”

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay. Bye.” One more quick peck on the lips and he is out the door, lighter than swan feather dancing in the wind.

\---

Bruce is walking through a museum of toys. There are beautiful wooden models on display, constructions that could have been made by Da Vinci back in the days. Centuries-old mechanisms come to life suddenly: a tiny doll walks out of a blue castle, enters a hot air balloon and goes up, up and away. Lovely. But Bruce is late. He has to leave. There is a vegetable garden growing close to the path. Should he get something from the patch? No, he has no time to waste. They are waiting. Mom, dad, Alfred and Superman greet him with tea. Dinner will be served soon. For now they chat in the afternoon sun. He is happy. This feels right. This feels…

Realization hits him hard on the head. If he can see them all together, this must mean they are all dead. Here he is having tea with ghosts. But Alfred? Superman… Clark? What have happened to them? Sweat is dripping down his back. Mother notices his distress. She leans in, gently puts a hand on his arm and says: “If you ever feel like it’s too much for you, go to mommy’s room. There you will die.”

The hotel bedroom is dark and empty when he jolts awake. Sheets are on the floor. He is shaking. His body is somehow too hot and too cold at the same time. The clock on the nightstand says it is almost noon. Unanswered calls from Alfred glare on the phone’s screen. Bruce opens the curtains to bring some light inside. A dream. Just a dream. That is what usually happens when he stops taking sleeping pills. But it will get better. He has to be patient.

Clark’s presence can be felt long after he has left the room. It lingers like a cozy balm on the skin. Bruce shaves and listens to the news but it is Clark who is on his mind. The situation played out well. He will not call, just like he did not call dozens of people before him. Asshole playboy is done with his toy. It will hurt Clark; he will feel used. That is a good thing – the quicker he decides to hate Bruce the better. He does not feel bad about breaking him: Clark will recover and go back to Lois. He is setting him free. If he gets hysterical Bruce can blackmail him into submission. It probably will not be necessary. They will part and pretend nothing ever happened between them, keeping each other in check. Clark will be safe from Bruce’s poison. This is the end. The only one they could ever have.

In the dream mother’s smile was wonderfully warm. Once again dying does not seem like such a bad idea.

\---

Clark is busy when he hears Lois walk into the building. He is surprised that she came back so early; she sounded like the trip would take her a few days. She goes straight to Perry’s office. Clark wants to eardrop but respects their previous agreement – no one likes to be spied on. People in the room seem a bit tense. Most of them hope for some good gossip material, others are very curious about the mysterious scoop Lois has been chasing for a while. Even Clark did not know exactly what caught her interest. Since their breakup they have not been that open about their ventures. Minutes go by and the door to Perry’s office remain closed. No shouting though, which is rare. Finally Lois walks out and takes a seat at her desk.

LL: I need to talk to you

Clark is taken aback with her behavior. A simple “hello” said face to face would be more sufficient. The skin on his neck creeps; this cannot be good.

CK: sure

CK: lunch?

LL: ok

\---

“Your guy, Adam Price.” Lois does not fool around when she is on a hunt. “Have you moved on from that story?” Clark is not sure what to make out of her directness. This does not feel like friends catching up during lunchtime. “No. I’m still on track. Why?”

“His name came up in my investigation. Adam Price is a fake identity, his real name is…”

“Anthony Douglas, I know,” Clark interrupts, “expert in money laundering, although _expert_ might not be the best word to describe him.” He is slightly irritated with her assumptions. “You didn’t drop the story after all.” Lois sounds surprised.

“What made you think I would? What did you find out?” Clark gets nervous. “Nothing. I thought you’ve reached a dead end, that’s all. But it’s something bigger, Clark. He was connected to my story.” Lois has the amazing ability to keep her cool even though she is clearly excited by what she discovered. “What is your story?” Clark asks, trying to mimic her composure. She hesitates. “Lo, I’m not gonna tell anyone…”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she says, suddenly cautious. “What is it then? I already know Douglas isn’t just a story of negligence. What happened in Washington?”

“I’ve talked to some military specialists.” Her eyes are serious but the voice stays pleasant. For now. “I believe there’s a smuggling ring working from Metropolis. They specialize in weapons.”

“You think Douglas was part of it?”

“Yes. Apparently he learned from the best in Gotham. He was taking care of the books. Officially the ships were carrying luxurious goods from Europe.” Clark’s throat tightens as she continues: “That’s not the only shady business he was involved with. You’re wrong if you say it’s not a story of negligence. It absolutely is. Deliberate negligence that leads to lowering the property value of the entire area. Low prices attract investors and the biggest investor in Metropolis is…”

“Lex Luthor.”

“Yes. I have it on good authority that Douglas was on his pay list. He already owns most of the city’s landscape but you and I know that people like him don’t stop until they have everything. What he wants is for Metropolis to be exactly the way he imagined. Gentrification makes him look like a great humanist but it’s built on sabotage and fraud. In just two years he could own up to sixty-five percent of this city.” Clark tries to think fast. “What gun smuggling has to do it with it?” He asks sharply. “That’s the part I have to keep to myself until I have more proof. But it’s all connected, I can feel it. And I’m afraid it has something to do with Superman.” For the first time today she actually looks worried. “Luthor’s vision of Metropolis doesn’t involve him.”

“How do you know that?” She sighs heavily. “Luthor tried to bring something to Metropolis that has been classified as an unidentified object found on the bottom of the Indian Ocean. A mineral of some sorts that hasn’t originated on Earth. Rumor has it he lost his mind when he couldn’t do that. From what I’ve gathered it was supposed to be a part of his new military program. He wants to include alien technology in producing weapons, Clark. That’s why I think Superman is his target.” People around them are laughing, talking, enjoying their food. Clark suddenly feels like there is a glass wall between him and the rest of the world. Cold like lab glassware. “We should write that article,” he says, “bring our clues together and see if anything fits.”

“There’s something else I have to tell you.”

“I’m listening.”

“I know you’re dating Bruce Wayne.” Whatever he was expecting to hear it definitely was not that. He wants to scream. He wants to run. More than anything, he wants Lois to stop looking at him like that. It is just… The situation is surreal. Clark’s survival instinct kicks in and he does the first thing he usually does when uncomfortable questions are aimed his way – he laughs. It sounds like he is choking. “Wh-what made you think that?! I know I don’t talk a lot about my relationship but that’s just… Come on. No. No, I’m not.”

“I saw him in your apartment. I know about your dinner date on Valentine’s Day.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

“Clark, I _know_ the truth _._ ” Lois is relentless. “Stop pretending. I saw the guy preparing goddamn scallops in your kitchen! I popped in to get the hard drive, remember? He told me himself it was a surprise for you. Don’t try to play me with those bewildered puppy eyes. I know you two are involved and I think it’s dangerous.” It seems that the rollercoaster of emotions will never stop. Clark realizes his body is tense like a piano cord. “Why?” 

“Because even though they’re not into weapon manufacturing anymore, Wayne Enterprises were in talks to buy the remains of the Kryptonian ship. He put some money into rebuilding the city center, right? Hand in hand with Luthor. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t interested in the mineral. There’s a bidding going on as we speak. Clark, does he know about you?”

One memory plays over and over in Clark’s head: _I need you to drop this scoop,_ Bruce said. _It’s getting dangerous._ _I don’t want to give them any chance to notice the connection between us, be it Superman and Batman or Clark and Bruce._ _We have to be careful. Stop thinking about the article._ He can feel his heart sinking slowly.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen Justice League yet so please, no spoilers in the comments!!


End file.
